


Sun Rose And We Fell In Love Again

by thenewcat04



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Love, Light-Hearted, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewcat04/pseuds/thenewcat04
Summary: "When they saw each other the first time, sun’s rays danced in Draco’s eyes and casted on his pale skin a waterfall of sparks. Magical? That was not what Harry would say. Amazing? Yes. Amazing how two strangers exchanged a single simple look under the gold light of the sun and suddenly realized they are meant for each other."A simple story of those who loved, lost and found each other again.





	Sun Rose And We Fell In Love Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me experiencing with how to make out a plot without writing the plot out, lol. Give me honest constructive feedback if you feel the need to (because I'm still learning English :3). You can find me on my Instagram: carrotsandshibas.

 

Inspiration for this fictional work came when I was having a Blue Oyster Cult marathon, so thank you, Blue Oyster Cult.

 ------

 _“Fantasy fills my mind_  
To leave this place before my time  
Release myself from earthly care  
My dream may be your nightmare”

_(Take me away-Blue Oyster Cult)_

\----

It was sunny, the day Draco met Harry. It was also sunny, the day he died. The sun was out there-always-like a silent reminder of the mortality of humans in a test against the eternality of time. When they saw each other the first time, sun’s rays danced in Draco’s eyes and casted on his pale skin a waterfall of sparks. Magical? That was not what Harry would say. Amazing? Yes. Amazing how two strangers exchanged a single simple look under the gold light of the sun and suddenly realized they are meant for each other. Amazing how quickly they went from friends to lovers.

Amazing how they were so in love and now, he was six feet underground.

It made Harry wonder, hell, it had kept him wondering since he found his limp body on the bathroom’s floor, pills in his hand and Blue Oyster Cult was playing on the radio, whether it was his fault.  Did he push him too far? No. They were happy the last time he checked. They were still a normal couple having lunch at Weasley’s and going home hand in hand. Did he misjudge something? The answer was still no. Draco had come home later than usual, but he never forgot his goodnight kisses for him or smiled when he greeted him at the door.   

His funeral was miserable. Not because people cried or grieved, it was the exact opposite. Nobody shed a tear, nobody talked to his mother, no one ever did a damn thing to indicate that they were sorry for her loss or his tragic death. Maybe that was the cause of his suicide, cold-hearted people. He was surrounded by them to the point it started to feel suffocating even in his own skin and Harry or his love was too small a comforter to keep him sane anymore. His mother rejected this relationship (cold-hearted). His father left him a bruised mess after every mistake when he was just a child (cold-hearted). His boss, his friends, they judged (cold-hearted).

There was a woman. She lingered by his coffin for a long time with tears on her face. The woman was the only one who actually did something. She cried until her throat raw, until they started to fill up his grave with dirt. Harry watched. He wanted to say something, wanted to ask but he was afraid that he couldn’t be heard.

Harry went to the house they shared together after the funeral ended. He didn’t stop by to talk to any of his so called friend or even his mother. They didn’t want him here, they never had. It looked the same as the house he remembered in mind except for empty rooms. They donated most of his things-useable ones-to charity. Just because it ended for him, didn’t mean it ended for others. The house didn’t feel the same though. It lacked the essence of Draco’s morning tea and Harry’s fresh coffee. It was missing the warmth of Draco’s laughter, of silly arguments about who got to do the dishes and who cooked dinner.  He touched the wall and it felt thick under his fingertips. A new coat of paint, he guessed, but still the same soothing cream color. He remembered they used to fight about this. Draco was so in love with the idea of moss green color and silver furniture but Harry found that red and gold was a much better combination. His eyes fell on the floor space where the sofa used to sit. This had been the spot where they placed the radio, where they read books with bodies held close to each other, where fine tunes of old times filled the house on the weekend.

There was a car parked silently in the driveway. Harry didn’t know this car. The car he knew was a dark brown 1968 Wildcat-the car his father left for them, the one they shared too many memories, many firsts-first kiss, first road trip, first getaway, first love. The blue modern vehicle looked so odd, so out of place. It broke what was left of the house in Harry’s mind. Then the same woman he had seen earlier walked out. She was still trembling, her legs shaking. She was still the sobbing mess like at the funeral. She threw her body down the swing on the front porch and just stared into nowhere. Her brown hair falling down on her shoulders as she bended down to pick up her purse. Harry didn’t even notice she dropped it at first. Taken out of the purse was a small polaroid photo. The woman cried again, harder this time. Tears glistened the surface of the photo, the faces in the square-shaped piece of film. Draco’s face to be exact.  

Harry ran out of the house through the backdoor. He kept running until bright lights of the day stabbed his eyes. The sun was everywhere. His frame was soaked in the mid-day’s beams.

“Harry!” a voice called from behind him. For the first time since Draco died, this was the only time something felt so familiar to him. It stirred up a warm overwhelming feeling in his stomach. He knew this voice.

“Draco.”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” He was as handsome as ever standing under the sunlight. He smiled and Harry felt like he was home again. Not the home with the strange woman sitting on the front porch, but the one with the Wildcat and coffee aroma and freshly brewed tea and Blue Oyster Cult playing on the radio.

“You are here now and that’s what matters.”

The last images that crept through his mind were of the home they shared, the way Draco’s smiled and two tombstones standing side by side against the test of time. And somewhere far did he hear old music playing. Harry felt like for just a tiny short moment before they could both be gone that he was alive. Everything felt lively; everything looked lively with Draco here wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck for the last time in forever.  

The sun had never been brighter.

\-----

_“And she ran to him... then they started to fly  
They looked backward and said goodbye... she had become like they are”_

_(Don’t fear the reaper-Blue Oyster Cult)_

      

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :]


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